


You've Got Your Daddy's Eyes

by soulmuzik



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulmuzik/pseuds/soulmuzik
Summary: They were always a "could of been"...Nothing would change that.





	You've Got Your Daddy's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Series AU: Dean's been dead two years. He leaves behind a wife and a brother; who haven't stopped looking. He also leaves behind a little three year old boy named Bobby. It's the anniversary of his death, they've been looking and coming up moot; and Cassie's going through it.

She hadn’t woken up like this in a long time; all covered in sweat, the bags so heavy under her eyes she felt their weight, nauseous. She got up and looked in the mirror for a long time, but not really at _herself_.

Sometimes, she’d look in mirrors and look straight past herself and start seeing green; intense, heavy laden green that brightened on occasion instead of dulling on the latter. She’d see straight past herself and look right at contrasting pale, pink; that used to lay heavy against her deep browns. She’d look straight past herself and see Dean Winchester; she had been doing it since the day they fell in love, but a little more over the past two years, on March 19th. The day her husband of five years was killed.

At first, she and Sam looked for ways to bring him back. Neither of them, per Winchester fashion, were going to let him stay dead. But one week turned into three months that turned into a whole year and half of she and Dean’s son, little Bobby, asking when his father was coming home for them to get desperate. And a little scared. A year and a half turned into two and Sam was getting tired. And life seemed to stop, for all three of them.

It wasn’t until the end of last year when Garth (the self -proclaimed “new Bobby”) told them that there may have been a way to get him back. So the hunt was back on. And they started moving again, but never really moving on. Just, seemingly, on the same cycle for two years.

Today marked their third year without Dean. So she woke up in cold sweats from bad nightmares and heavy guilt. Little Bobby was turning three in two weeks and Cassie only had one gift in mind to give him; but she was shortly starting to believe that that wasn’t possible.

Her answering machine startled her out of her haze;

_“Hey Cassie, its Sam. Got your text and checked out that coven; they didn’t have what we were looking for. Maybe they were too young, but they’d never heard of the ingredients for the ritual. I’ll keep looking.”_

Beep.

_“Cassie—hey, it’s me, Sam. I talked to Garth; and apparently he ran into a warlock that might have done something that maybe could be our thing? I don’t know, I’m running on a lot of guessing. But I’ll keep looking. We’ll find a way…to bring him back…”_

Beep.

_“Hey Cassie…its Sam. I don’t think I ever call you just to ask how you’re feeling…I know today’s—well, you know what today is—I’ll swing by tonight, if you want. We’ll watch Bad Santa and drink really bad beer and—and we’ll sing Bobby to sleep. I know that was a “you-and-Dean” thing but—hey, I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I miss him. And I miss you and Bobby and--and I’ll come by later. See you soon.”_

Beep.

By the last one, she was already in tears.

She grabbed both sides of the bathroom sink and braced herself against sobs that threatened to rack her body; sobs that signaled a sort of giving in to the fears that Dean may be never coming back. She didn’t know if she could let herself believe that.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Mommy?”

She stopped, and steeled herself, easing, gently into the small touch of the beautiful little boy holding her knee, looking up at her with blissful, unknowing, innocence. She looked down, and closed her eyes, for just a minute. Because she never wanted that innocence in his eyes to leave. She never wanted to tell him that his daddy wasn’t coming home. She didn’t want that to be the truth.

“Mommy? Are you okay, Mommy?”

“I’m fine, handsome”, she picked him up, and kissed his head “I’m perfect now that you’re here”.

“Mommy, what are we having for breakfast?”

“What do you want baby?” she walked away from the bathroom and into their small kitchenette, going through the fridge, but never putting her little boy down.

“I like pancakes”

“Me too—don’t we all like pancakes?”

“Yes, all of us! Me and you and daddy!”

“Yes, me, and you and…daddy”, she smiled, looking at her son. She took a moment, looking at his eyes. They were shaped and shaded just like his father’s. He looked so much like him. And he was growing into such a handsome boy…and Dean was missing it.

“Is daddy having breakfast with us too?”

She looked away now, keeping busy, “daddy’s working, dear.”

~*~*~

Three knocks sounded at the door around lunch time.

For a second, she thought _…there were three knocks, they were heavy as if the person was laying on the door…Dean knocked like that…_

But she shook it, and answered the door to see Sam’s smiling face. Sam’s smiles were a lot like his affection; completely genuine. But he looked like he’d been crying too, which made her feel a little less alone.

And the whole evening went according to plan; Sam played with Bobby for hours, and helped her make dinner. And while she gave Bobby a bath, Sam cleaned house (much to her chagrin later), and then Sam told Bobby bed time stories, and they sang to him until he fell asleep. Sam even came through on the beer and “Bad Santa”.

It was while they were watching the movie when Cassie finally let the levees break.

And Sam didn’t ask any questions. He just held her. And she cried, and he cried, and she closed her eyes; tormented by uncertainty and denial and Dean’s eyes. Those eyes that now belonged to her son.

The eyes she’d never be able to escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Gratsi! Leave ya comments, boo:)


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